


Polaroid

by fadeverb



Series: In Nomine: the Company [5]
Category: In Nomine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeverb/pseuds/fadeverb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1948, and Valentin has acquired a new toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polaroid

Adrian knows a room full of props when he sees one. Some people might look into the old barn and think, yes, that's certainly an old barn, with the sorts of things one might expect in such a place, but Adrian can see that Valentin's arranged a hay bale here and a rusty farm tool there and made it a set. Set of props plus Valentin equals photography, and that's never quite safe.

He could just say "Valentin is never quite safe" and be more succinct while _also_ being more accurate. This is common wisdom inside the company. Valentin throws the best parties (aside from the company-wide party that comes once a year, and no one lets Valentin plan that one anymore), but watch out for what happens there. Valentin gives the best fashion advice, so long as you have the confidence to pull it off, and you probably don't. Valentin once made an inconvenient Knight of Death disappear, and no one but the Marquises knows how.

Valentin will lure you into a barn full of props with sweet, sweet promises and then pull out a camera.

"I thought we should celebrate," Valentin says. The current Role and vessel are female, and thus she's wearing a suit that was in fashion during the first world war. (The last Role and vessel were male; he wore a great deal of lace, and some impressive dresses from courts that no longer existed, in the privacy of his own home.) "Unbutton your vest and go stand next to that hay bale."

"You said this was about work." Adrian folds his arms over his chest. He's worn this host a half dozen times before, and he knows how its body moves by now. He can let the human do some of these moves without more than the slightest nudge, and it's always best if he can ride lightly in places. Too much control turns into fights in unexpected places. "This is not work."

"This is totally work," Valentin says, and puts a hand to the small of his back. She walks him over toward the hay bale. "One hundred percent, head to toe and everything inbetween. You have a new host to try out--"

"I've used this one before."

"--a moderately new host to try out, and _I_ have a brand new camera to try." She smiles like she's got razor blades between her knuckles, and holds up the camera. "Instant results, or the nearest thing to it. Do you need help with those buttons?"

"Cameras aren't a work issue."

Valentin undoes three buttons. Then, on consideration, she buttons one together again. "That's perfect. _This_ camera is a work expense, because it's small and gets fast results. There are all sorts of practical uses for that. Or so I told Chaixin, and she told me to prove it before I expense it, so I need to take it for a spin. Lift your chin a little."

"This is not work," Adrian says, and ducks away from Valentin's hand. She snaps a picture as he moves. "Stop that, Valentin."

"You're aiding the grand cause of Hell, Theft, and Industrial Espionage." She kisses him on the nose. "Unlike the sap you're inhabiting. He's so lucky you're around to give him some direction. How terrible is this one?"

"Terrible," Adrian says. "He thinks of nothing but fashion, shallow friendships, and social prestige. I can't think of anyone else I know like him."

"I know so many people like him." Valentin walks away, fiddling with his camera. "Impudites, right? Can't live with them, can't--ooo, I _can_ kill them. So long as they're not coworkers. What are you using this one for?"

"Getting inside his father's company." Adrian follows, because if this ridiculous camera is work related, he should know how it works. It's a little Vapulan, actually, to see the camera cracked open and a picture removed. The blur of his host's neck and hair as he ducks away, while the hay bale stands crisp behind him. "Does that work every time?"

"So far." Valentin holds up the photograph, critical now. "I could do better in my darkroom, by far, but if you're looking for speed... And _anyone_ could use this one with a few minutes of instruction. Even Zabina. I swear, she's a century behind everyone else."

"She doesn't believe in technology until she sees the numbers." Adrian takes the photograph away. "What a piece of work is man. Or was this from the Vapulans?"

"Oh, who can tell the difference these days?" Valentin spins around with the camera reloaded already. "Chin up. Not that far up. Just hold that photo behind you and look a little murderous--less murderous than that."

"I'm not trying to look murderous at all," Adrian says, and when he frowns at Valentin, she snaps another picture.

"Perfect."

"You're such a little monster."

"Not so little." She spins away on one foot, focus on the camera again. "This is the best toy I've found all week. Month. I'd say year, but there was that cute little number in January, so that resets the clock. I'm throwing a party a week from Saturday, by the by. You're coming, aren't you?"

"It depends on what I need to do for work. I have more responsibilities, you know."

"Nonsense. You have the exact same responsibilities as ever. You just have a new title to acknowledge that you do more work than anyone else in the company. Something to make up for the rest of us slackers, so you can feel good about it instead of taken advantage of." She sits on the edge of the bale. "Come over here and take your shirt off."

"For work?"

"For the cause of Hell, yes." She hooks her heels around the backs of his knees, and sets the camera aside. "You're so bad with buttons. Let me help. Or is it your host? He just can't handle the buttons. Traumatized by a button factory in his youth. Belongs to a peculiar Christian sect that believes it's corrupt to touch the fastenings of clothings, and you're saving up to use that one later because if you let him unbutton anything now, you'll have to escalate to some _truly_ wicked act."

"I have work to do," Adrian says, and he's flat on his back on the barn floor with Valentin sitting on top of him. "You worked in the Marches. Why do you even _have_ all these Corporeal Forces?"

"A well-rounded education." She undoes the buttons on his vest, his shirt, and then even the cuffs of his coat. "You know what this host would look good in? Bloody lace."

"You say that about everyone."

"I do not." She sounds affronted, and he doesn't believe it for an instant. She is almost impossible to offend. Her teeth are too sharp for her to fuss over what other people say or do. "I only say it when it's true. That tiny thing you brought by last week should be in velvet, with a dark blue cap, and, let me think, holding exactly the right kind of thing. A leash with a leopard, maybe, or a handful of thin, sharp stakes."

"And they call me a corrupter." She has undone his trousers, and Adrian decides he's not going to bring that up in the middle of an otherwise interesting conversation.

"Not to your face." She undoes her trousers, leaving the rest on, all the way down to the heavy coat; its cuffs drag across his wrists before she sets her hands there. "Come to my party. I'm inviting the most interesting people in the city, and some people out of it. Baolan promised to bring that crazy little Impudite they're so fond of, and Yuliang is coming with humans, so you know those will be to your taste in looks and terrible nature both, seeing how they're her friends."

"You get right to the point." Adrian says this with a twitch of his hips as her hands work to arrange his host's body as she wants to use it just now.

"Foreplay," she says, "is for people who aren't very busy Knights with very busy work schedules. We can make this fast, in honor of the new camera."

She is fast, and once she's settled down on top of him, she holds his wrists down to the ground. They're grinding the dirt of the floor into this host's good suit; he'll need to change, and find a laundry, before he can attend his next planned event, and that'll be a bother, and Valentin _knows_ that he's working, doesn't she?

No camera in her hand, and she's so very dangerous all the same.

She won't let him go until this body's given in to that human affliction, as if sex has to have an end point that every other act drives towards. And once he's delivered, she licks sweat from beneath his chin and says, "You are coming to the party, aren't you?"

"I'll try." He lets his head rest on the ground, watching dust motes float through the sunlight. The barn's ceiling is full of cracks, to let that much in. "What's the theme this time?"

"It's a surprise." She lies down across him, shirt smooth and jacket rough over his chest. "You should bring someone along, next time. I can't take any good pictures from this position."

"Someone like who? They'd want to join in, not take pictures. That's your game."

"Wren? Maybe Lanthano, he's so..." She spun a hand in the air. "Agreeable. He's so agreeable I could bite him, sometimes."

"You do."

"Can, do, what's the difference?" She stood up, and buttoned her trousers. "Stay there. I want another picture."

"Now you're just looking for blackmail material."

"You never know when a host might get difficult." She reloaded the camera as efficiently as she did anything else. "Now look up here and--don't smile, Adrian, you'll ruin the look."


End file.
